HELLBOUND
by Night Owl 93
Summary: Doug lives with his dominatrix girlfriend, Julie. Knowing he craves more intense experiences, she gives him a puzzle box which delivers him to beings called the Cenobites. After Doug's disappearance, his cop brother, Chris, steps in to investigate. a re-imagining of Clive Barker's HELLRAISER. rated M for sexual/BDSM content
1. Chapter 1

**20-year-old Doug lives with his supermodel girlfriend Julie, who also acts as his dominatrix, appealing to Doug's masochistic desires. When Doug finds himself becoming "bored", craving more and more intense experiences, Julie brings him a puzzle box. After opening it, he is taken to a dimension that is home to otherworldly beings known as the Cenobites. **  
**After Doug's disappearance, his older brother, Chris, a cop, steps in to investigate, finding himself caught in a whirlwind of lust, pleasure, pain, all of which could easily become his sweetest dream or his worst nightmare.**

**A re-imagining of Clive Barker's novella _The Hellbound Heart_ (the inspiration for the Hellraiser films)**

* * *

"What's your pleasure, madame?"

"I was told you'd have something I want."

"Perhaps."

"The box?"

"Ah, yes. I have just what you are looking for."

"How much for it?"

"However much you feel it is worth."

"Here."

"Very good. Here, take it. It's all yours now."

* * *

Julie was late returning home again. Her career in modeling made such tardiness typical, leaving her lover, Doug, home alone to wait for her. In the mean time, he sat in the living room of the glamorous Californian abode they shared together, the highly expensive kind that only those of Julie's profession could afford, waiting as patiently as he could, which was not by far. He even attempted to make a phone call to his older brother, Chris, for the mere sake of killing the time, but received no answer, which was no surprise to him; he was usually on duty during such late hours.

It was nearly midnight by the time she strolled in through the front, her step swaggering slightly from the alcohol she had been consuming that night. As soon as he heard the clacks of her heels on the marble floors, Doug leapt from his seat, scurrying over to her so he could kneel at her feet like a loyal pup elated to see his master. This was actually not far from the reality.

He sat on his knees before her, an invisible tail wagging with joy at the sight of the object of his adoration. Julie had to be the single most beautiful woman Doug had ever laid eyes on in his entire life. At twenty-nine years old, Julie possessed a body that would make the most famous porn stars envious, flawlessly smooth alabaster skin, shoulder-length jet-black hair, icy blue feline eyes, and naturally full blood-red lips. As soon as he caught sight of her in a club three months ago, he was smitten. And though he was nine years younger than she, practically a boy in her eyes with his youthful face and attitude, his undying devotion and subservience towards her was all it took to win her affections.

"I'm sorry I'm home late, pet," she then told him, "My girl-friends and I decided to go out for a few drinks after the shoot. You're not mad at me, are you?"

As if to make sure he would not be, she extended a hand and stroked his chin.

"I could never be mad at you," he purred, "I'm just happy you're home now."

With a pleased smirk on her face, Julie returned her hands to her hips and strolled over towards the dining table with Doug in tow.

"So where's my dinner?" she asked of him as she plopped down into her seat.

Anxiously, Doug rushed to the refrigerator to retrieve the plate he had prepared for her, left covered in a sheet of saran wrap to chill. After heating it up in the microwave, he delivered the plate to her, warm and steaming, and placed it on the table before her. He then proceeded to sit on his knees by her side as he was instructed to always do.

Upon seeing the meal her lover had prepared laid out before her, her face twisted into a look that was nothing short of revulsion.

"Doug?" she groaned with disdain, poking at the slab of meat with her fork, "What is this?"

"Is there something wrong, mistress?" asked Doug, feigning innocence.

In a flash, Julie had her fingers tangled into the curls of Doug's blonde hair and twisted, pulling his head up and practically shoving his face right into the plate.

"What? The fuck? Is this?" she repeated, growling through her bared teeth.

"Ah! It's-it's," Doug gasped, "a steak."

"And?!" Julie then hissed, tightening her grip, threatening to rip Doug's locks clean from his scalp.

"A-and... mashed potatoes."

Doug's cries were not from pain, but pleasure. This was why he purposely made a meal for her that he knew fully well that she would find detestable. He was hoping to provoke her into inflicting that oh-so-exquisite punishment he always longed for.

"I thought I made it clear," Julie snarled in his face after she turned his head so that they met eye to eye, "No. Red. Meat. Not on my diet. And potatoes?! Are you kidding me?! You know that I find them repulsive!"

"I'm- I'm sorry mistress," Doug winced, still continuing his facade, "I... I forgot. Please, forgive me?"

She answered his pleas by discharging a wad of spit directly into his eye and snarling, "Too late for that. You're going to have to pay the consequences for this."

Doug's mistress then shoved him away from her, using such force she ended up throwing him down to the floor. She then rose from her chair, towering over Doug lying in a heap on the floor. Her arm raised, held straight and pointing forward towards the hall. He knew what she meant by this sign.

Doug rose to his hands and knees, but ascended no further. Instead, he remained on all fours and crawled like a dog, with Julie following behind him to give him an occasional kick in the rump whenever she seemed to feel he "needed to move faster."

They both soon entered a large, circular, windowless room that lied at the far end of the house. This was what they called the "Playroom". Though, to any human with a weaker stomach, it would have been considered nothing more than a torture chamber. In it was a vast array of tools that were used purely for Doug's pleasure. Ropes, chains, harnesses, cages, needles, blades, hooks, whips; all the weapons of delight that a person like Doug could ever want.

On Julie's orders, Doug stripped off his clothes and followed her to a contraption that hung from the ceiling, resting high up against the wall. A horizontal steel rod from which there hung a set of metal hooks, each attached to individual chains connected to the rod.

"You'll be getting the hooks tonight," she told him.

A warm shudder vibrated through Doug's body as he heard those words, his eyes gleaming like the hooks they were gazing lustfully on. He stepped up the small ladder that Julie had placed so that he could reach. He then turned back so that as he lowered himself, with Julie's assistance, the hooks slipped right into the two rings that were pierced into the skin of his back, one through each of his shoulder blades, and the two in the backs of each of his upper arms. Once the hooks were in place, Doug rested his body weight, making it easier on himself for when Julie removed the ladder from under his feet, leaving him dangling, the hooked rings stretching his flesh like latex. From a distance, one could say he resembled a sort of macabre crucifixion victim with the way Doug was hanging there with his arms spread, his eyes wet with forming tears.

"Are you ready for your punishment?" asked Julie as she approached him with one of the leather whips in her hand.

Doug nodded his head in answer, his voice wheezing out a, "Yes, mistress," while in his thoughts, he pleaded, _'And please, don't stop there!'_

* * *

**here's my attempt at re-imagining another horror classic  
**

**i've only recently started watching the Hellraiser films, and read Barker's original story, and after learning that there is a reboot in the works, i decided to beat them to the punch, LOL X)~**

**the characters have gotten total makeovers and the plot is loosely based on the original**

**enjoy**


	2. Chapter 2

The following day, Doug received two surprises. The first came in the form of a rather unanticipated visitor. He was in the room that was used for him to work on his art. He stood before his erected on the easel, scrawling away on the canvas' white face with that kind of energy only pure inspiration can produce.

He had spent all morning in there since after Julie had left. It was nearly noontime when he heard the chime of the doorbell. As reluctant as he was to separate from his work, Doug pried himself away so as to answer. When he did so, he discovered that it was none another than his elder sibling, Chris, standing on the doorstep.

"Chris!" he elated after opening the door to him and pulling him in for a hug, "I'm so glad to see you!"

"Hey Doug," said Chris as he returned the embrace, "It's great to see you too."

"Well, come on in." Doug then stepped aside to allow his brother entry into his home.

Seeing the two men together, one could barely even tell that they were related, much less brothers of all things. Chris was aged twenty-seven years to Doug's twenty, and so was approximately a foot-and-a-half taller than his younger sibling. There were also many other noticeable differences in their appearances (all caused by voluntary changes made between each of them) such as Chris leathery-tanned skin versus Doug's fairer, more average-colored complexion, Chris' hair always cropped short, while Doug let it grow out slightly and kept it dyed a subtle blonde color, then of course that Chris' muscular physique was practically twice the size of Doug's gangly frame.

But there were some similarities present as well. Doug's natural hair color did in fact match with Chris', their eyes were identically colored a deep dark green, and their hands actually met the same length (though Chris' hands did outmatch Doug's in thickness).

And their whole lives, they had always contained a special fraternal bond that other sets of siblings merely wished to have. This closeness was forged through a life they shared throughout their childhoods that required as much, a life that neither of them cared to revisit if they could help it.

"So what's up bro?" asked Doug as they both made their way down the front hall. Once they made it to the kitchen, Doug filled a glass with cold water from the sink; during the hours in which he had been too preoccupied with his artwork to keep himself hydrated, and only now was beginning to feel the effects of it.

"Well, I saw you tried calling last night," Chris answered as Doug was gulping down his entire helping of water in just a few heavy gulps, "And it's been a while since we actually hung out or anything, so I figured I'd stop by."

His glass emptied, Doug set it down with a satisfied sigh and a belch. "Well, thanks for the pleasant surprise," said Doug with a smile on his face. "Urgh, and I don't know about you, but I am starving!" he then proclaimed in response to the rumbling noise that arose from his empty belly.

"We could go out and grab some lunch," Chris suggested.

"Oh geez, it's lunch time already?" Doug laughed. "Christ, how the time flies. Okay, but let me get myself cleaned up and change out first," he then said with a smug smile, referring to the black smudges on his hands, face, and his white t-shirt, "That charcoal smears like a motherfucker."

"Still drawing, are ya?"

"You bet You wanna see what I was working on?"

"Sure."

Chris was then led from the kitchen into the room that Doug had been spending his day in.

"There it is," said Doug, his finger pointing to the nearly completed drawing standing on the easel. As Doug then retreated into the nearby bathroom to clean up, Chris was left alone to examine the picture his brother had created. Etched onto the canvas was an image that chilling in both the macabre portrait drawn and the purposely crude and roughly sketched lines. It was of a male figure, an emaciated form of skin over bones, his head hung with his dark hair obscuring his face. His body was hanging by a series of hooks pierced into the flesh of his back and outstretched arms, creating a sort of dark, grisly crucifixion scene.

He was so absorbed by this unsettling piece of art that he nearly leapt right out of his skin when Doug's hand crept over his shoulder. The young man was now sparkling clean and changed into a fresh set of clothes.

"Oh," Chris gasped, catching his breath, "You ready to go now?"

"Yeah, I'm all set. And sorry; I didn't mean to scare you or anything," replied Doug. "It's that creepy, huh?" he asked, nodding to the drawing.

"Well, yeah, kind of," answered Chris, "But you always seemed to draw the freakiest shit."

"Well I always had an attraction to it. Just in my nature, hehehe," Doug ribbed, leading the way out.

Upon exiting through the front door, Doug locked the house back up before joining Chris in his black Mustang, commenting on how he "always preferred this car over his 'bacon-mobile'", earning a dry sarcastic laugh from his brother. Over the years, Chris had to endure many a lame, immature joke about being a police officer; Doug just never seemed to grow out of getting amusement at his brother's expense over his career choice.

After some time, they arrived at a restaurant for them to grab some grub. Doug ended up with a chicken sandwich, while Chris got what might possibly have been the thickest, greasiest cheeseburger known to humankind.

"That is so fucking gross," Doug groaned at the sight of the massive burger getting stuffed into his brother's mouth, drops of mustard oozing out and dribbling onto his plate.

"Mmph," Chris moaned, his mouth full, "Is sooo good though." Then after swallowing his bite and wiping the beef juice and mustard from his cheeks, "And it's way better than that bird food you call a meal. It's no wonder you ain't got any meat on your bones."

"Hey," replied Doug, "not all us starving artists can afford gym memberships, like some pigs in present company."

Chris responded to this with a laugh and a kiss of his right bicep.

"So how are things, anyway?" he then asked, "You still with... oh shit, what's her name? Julie?"

"Yeah, me and Julie are still together," Doug answered, then speaking in a more pensive tone of voice, "Not sure for how much longer, though."

"What makes you say that? I thought you were really into her."

"I was. I mean, I am. It's just... it's kind of something I'm not sure I'm too comfortable talking about with my brother of all people."

"Come on, if you can't talk about shit with me, who can you turn to?"

"I guess you got a point," Doug sighed in surrender, "To make a long, gross story short and clean, she's just not quite... doing it for me lately."

"Getting bored with your little hausfrau already, are you?"

"Just in the bedroom sense, if you know get my meaning."

"Ohhh, yeah, now I get it."

"It's just that it's all gotten kind of... monotonous, ya know. Now at first, lord, it was great! Like when she would-"

"Agh! Okay, okay, okay! I get it! I get it!" Chris interrupted, dropping his burger, refusing to have his ears being raped by the perversions of his younger brother's private antics.

"Warned you," Doug snickered as he bit odd a couple more morsels from his sandwich.

After a moment of silence from them both, Chris was the one to break it.

"Listen," said he, "If you've stayed with her for this long, there must be something about her worth sticking around for."

"Like how unbelievably gorgeous she is. That's a factor."

"Okay, even I of all people have to admit, she is pretty easy on the eyes, to put it mildly. hehe. And at the very least, you can make some, ehem, suggestions as far as spicing things up."

Doug responded with an amused chuckle, followed by an appreciative smile and nod.

They soon finished eating, and after some more idle small-talk shared between them, Chris returned Doug to his home.

"Hey," said Doug upon their arrival, "Thanks for listening to me and my petty problems."

"It's no problem," said Chris, "It's what I'm here for." And as Doug exited the vehicle, "And next time you try to call, I'll make sure to answer."

"Oh really?"

"Cross my heart."

"Good, 'cause I'm gonna be testing you on that," Doug said with a sly smirk and wink, "When you least expect it."

Chris smirked in return, then was gone. As Doug walked up towards the entrance, he suddenly noticed Julie's Mercedes in the driveway. She was home already. When he had entered the house, she stood in the living room, apparently waiting for him.

"Where have you been?"

"My brother, Chris, stopped by, and we went out to get some lunch."

Julie's hand then raised to curl a beckoning finger. Doug sank to his knees and crawled towards her, stopping just before her feet.

"I'm sorry, it's just-"

"Shush," she interrupted him with a finger to his lips. "Now, close your eyes and hold out your hands." she told him.

He did as commanded, and through his blindness he could hear the sounds of Julie rummaging through her purse, then felt something being placed into his upturned hands.

"What is it?" he asked, his eyes remaining shut.

"A surprise," she said. "Now you can look."

Doug's eyes opened to the sight of Julie's gift to him: a box. More precisely, it was a puzzle box.

* * *

_**DUN-DUN-DUN!**_

**if you haven't figured it out, Chris is based off of a pretty important character from the Hellraisers. give you one guess as to which one, hehe ;)~**

**hope y'all enjoyed this little piece of character development.  
i actually considered NOT including Chris here, but i figured this would make a much better introduction than what i originally had planned.**


	3. Chapter 3

Doug had obeyed Julie's orders eagerly as ever and sat, nude, in the center of the playroom with the box she had given him held between his two hands. It was a perplexing object, to say the least. Apparently, the thing was constructed as a puzzle, each of its six lacquered onyx faces etched with grid designs that mapped over a hundred squares with diagonal etchings crossing through each square, like the world's most complex Rubix cube. He was naturally apprehensive of attempting to solve it and facing the frustration of failing. Maybe that was the true punishment that Julie had intended, because one of her orders was that he was not permitted, not for any reason whatsoever, to leave the spot on which he sat until the puzzle had been solved.

So Doug worked on figuring out the strange and confusing cube, taking his time so as to savor this presumed punishment. His thumbs ran across the smooth, glossy sides, tracing over the lines etched into it, feeling for any signs it gave for allowing itself to be opened by him.

His efforts were eventually rewarded when two of its corners turned beneath his touch, though it was nothing more than a feather-light brush. The thing was automated, to a degree, he surmised. From that point, as if having its own consciousness, the thing seemed to further permit Doug entry; each of its sides slid, rotated, folded and unfolded under his fingers, and like a child on Christmas morning, Doug's eagerness grew ever more fervent as he drew closer towards completion.

In a matter of minutes, his efforts were rewarded as the box was opened for Doug to uncover whatever prize lay inside. Once it was, he could hear music being played. A light, tinkling, haunting little tune. Was this a music box, meant only to voice its song when exposed? Strangely enough, when he peered inside, he saw that the box was in fact empty. In the box's inner walls, he saw only his own face reflected across the surface that refracted a rainbow of colors.

As he looked about in hopes of discovering the source of the music, instead he saw that the room he sat in was now growing darker. All light inside was vanishing, being vacuumed up by, or perhaps retreating from, a pure blackness that seeped in from the corners like oil and spread across the walls. In no time at all, Doug found himself seated, alone, in a perpetual, seemingly limitless black vortex. And yet, though he was in a total and complete darkness, when he looked down upon himself, he could still see his own body as clearly as if he were in daylight.

It wasn't merely the light that was gone. There seemed to be no temperature in... wherever he now was, either. It was warm in the room before, but the heat had since dissipated. Though there was no heat, it had not become cold either. There was a indescribable vacancy to the air now. Speaking of which, as he was busy observing his strange new environment, Doug then suddenly realized that he had not drawn a single breath since he had opened the puzzle box. For some reason, now it appeared he no longer had any need for breathing.

All of this confused and frightened poor young Doug. Was he dreaming? he wondered, Was he dying? Was he already dead and slipping into permanent damnation as mother always told him he would? All of these, and none of these explanations seemed probable.

Then, a light appeared before him. A lustrous white light like that belonging to the moon that shimmered against his own skin. When his head turned up to see the source of the light, to his amazement, discovered that the light was in fact radiating from the woman who stood before him with her hands crossed behind her back.

But she was like no woman he had ever seen. Like no human of any sex he had ever seen. He even began to wonder if she even was entirely human, not only with her superhumanly luminous white skin, but because of her appearance. She stood at approximately seven, maybe even eight feet tall. This height was achieved by steel coils that were around her throat, stretching it up a good two feet like a giraffe. Her dress was black leather (which, amazingly, did not camouflage her with the blackness that surrounded her), attached with silver hooks and rings that were pierced into her flesh. It included a corset that contracted her torso to an impossible smallness, and a tattered skirt that reached past her feet, on which she wore leather boots with the highest heels in existence. She had not a single follicle of hair on her; her cranium and eyebrows were completely bald, and he felt it safe to assume that, though the rest of her body was concealed in the dress, the rest of her body was just as hairless as well. Her bald head was decorated with wire-thin silver chains that were woven into a grid design, fixed with rings that were pierced into her brows and ears. Her eyes were the same as her flesh, pure white, though they were not luminescent at all, but smoky glass orbs.

In that moment, he was racked with woe, regretting for ever considering Julie divine, for now he saw that he was terribly mistaken. This woman before him was a true deity, one that undeniably deserved to be bowed down before and worshipped.

"You opened the box."

She said this, not questioning, but in a matter-of-factly way. Her voice was soft, smooth like silk, speaking almost in a monotone, devoid of any emotion, her tone neither malicious nor comforting. Some might consider her angelic, others monstrous. Doug chose the first.

"I-I..." Doug stammered, too stunned to articulate his words properly as he normally would, "I did."

"Do you know who I am?" she asked of him, "Why I am here?"

It sounded more like a rhetorical question.

"N-no. I don't."

"I am one of the Cenobites, child," she explained to him, her body remaining standing still as if she were a statue, or in Doug's eyes, an idol.

"Cenobites?" Doug asked in a hushed whisper.

"Explorers of experience, of pleasures only few have ever known. We exist outside your world, beyond time and space as you know it. Only the Configuration allows a crossing."

"The..." Doug muttered, looking down at the box still clutched in his hands, "The puzzle box?"

"Yes. Crafted centuries ago as a means to summon us, along with other items before it."

"But... I... I didn't know. My-my mistress gave it to me. I didn't know what it was."

"It is not merely hands that call us, but desire. Hunger. Longing. Without it, the Configuration would never have opened for you. I can sense your desires now, smell them, taste them. And I also know that as of late, those hungers have grown, left unable to be quenched. I can promise you right now, Douglas, I can grant you pleasures you could never possibly imagine. Not even in your most feverish, sinful, delicious dreams. But the choice is yours. You can come with me, or stay."

Doug almost could not believe what he was hearing. Never before had he heard such a truly enticing proposition. A part of him was tempted to choose remaining with Julie, where the suffering was growing more and more stale by the day. That miniscule piece that whispered such an option was being out-shined by what this... goddess (for lack of a better term) had to offer him. Judging by the conditions of her body, he knew she had an understanding of his desires that none on Earth could ever possess.

After a short minute or two of contemplation, he gave his answer. "I'll go with you."

"Once you join us, there will be no turning back. You will belong to us for eternity," the Cenobite explained, "You willingly accept this?"

"I do."

"Then let us begin."

The Cenobite then strode closer towards Doug. As she did, she brought her arms forth from behind her, revealing that she merely owned one hand, her right hand. Her left had been replaced with a gleaming silver hook with a razor edge. Also, as she moved in on him, Doug suddenly realized that the box, or "Configuration" as the Cenobite had called it, had vanished.

"You have no need for it now," she said to him as she stood before him.

Her single hand then raised to caress Doug's cheek. A soft moan escaped his lips as he leaned into her touch; her skin was softer than the finest silk, unlike any sensation he had ever felt.

"I have no idea what your name is," he confessed, looking up to meet her blank eyes.

"You may call me whatever you wish," she told him, her thumb moving across his bottom lip.

She then raised her hook-hand, and dragged the edge across his other cheek, bringing a sound from him more deep and husky than the one before. In the heat of his passion, he took hold of her arm and drew his tongue along her implement of pleasure, tasting his own blood, also drawing more from his own tongue in the process. An extensive list had gone through his mind for the name that would best suit her, but in this moment of bliss, one that he knew was nothing compared to the paradise soon to come, he decided on just one, and sighed it against her blade.

"Angel."

* * *

**introducing, the Cenobites, _"Explorers of the further reaches of experience. Demons to some, angels to others..."_**

**here's a drawing of "Angel" : deviantart**DOT**com/art/Angel-The-Cenobite-364560196?q=gallery%3Ahorror-lover%2F4282116&qo=4  
**

******this is a chapter that shows how it is based off of the novel, not just the movies. in the Hellbound Heart, the box was smooth and black without any design or features, and when the Cenobites appeared to Frank, they did offer him a choice whether or not to go with them (which created a continuity error later :P), and "Pinhead" was (at least hinted at as being) a girl  
**


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